Sex, Love, and Dirty Diapers
by PanDaimonia
Summary: The joys of married life when a third party comes on the scene: [JamesLily]


James always slept with his mouth open. He slept like a little boy, hair tousled and cheeks flushed, his hand in a loose fist by his face as he made soft smacking noises with his mouth. Once, Lily had thought it was adorable. Now she just resented how easily he could fall asleep, out cold as soon as his head hit the pillow. While she, on the other hand, could go to bed dead on her feet and still lie there, her mind going going going, worrying and reflecting on the day, and generally refusing to quiet down. These days, even while she slept, some part of her was always holding back from rest, listening for any noise from the other room.

It had _not_ been her idea to have Harry sleep in the other room. She'd been a bit nervous when they first brought him home, true enough, what with thoughts of rolling over on him, like one of those sea lion mothers on the nature programs that Petunia used to watch with a certain morbid glee. But the mediwitch had reassured her that such an occurrence wasn't very likely, and she had added casually (but speaking with the Voice of Authority that caused nervous new mothers to listen carefully), "Why stick him in the other room? You want to be getting up at all hours of the night? New mothers need their sleep, and God made it simple for you—the boy starts to fuss, just roll over, pull the shirt up and give him the tit. Got me through four, and none of _them_ came out squished like jelly."

After a little talking, and reminding that this was a professional speaking, James had come around, and pretty soon Lily couldn't imagine it any other way. She liked having Harry that close, so any hour of the night she could just turn over and check on him. He would be right there, with his black hair sticking straight up (following in the path of James' genetics already it seemed), his little fists curled around the blanket or, just as often, her shirt, his little socks kicked off during the night. During times like these especially, it was a comfort to wake up and hear his soft, snuffly breathing or sense his milky baby breath tickling her neck as she woke. Too many nights she woke from half-remembered nightmares, heart pounding and sweat prickling, to feel a sharp relief when she saw Harry nestled in bed with her and James.

But they—well, James—had decided that Harry was old enough for his own crib in the other room. She had felt rather reluctant to let him go (he couldn't really be old enough already, could he?), but James had been rather…insistent.

"Maybe it's just me, but I can't get used to the idea of having sex while he's lying two feet away."

"Not even in the crib? We could compromise and have the crib in here, maybe…"

"No."

"What? What's your problem with it?"

"It seems vaguely creepy."

"I'm sure it's a good thing for him to grow up knowing that his parents have a healthy sex life!"

"Lily?"

"Please?"

"Not this time… Besides, I think it would probably be good for him to get used to having his own room, don't you think?"

"A likely excuse! It's all about the sex really, isn't it?"

"Well…"

"I thought as much."

And that had been that. Harry's crib was set up in the room next door, the one that they had actually prepared for him before he was born. Remus and Sirius had helped them with the wallpapering and painting. Above the baseboard there marched a series of animals: lop-eared rabbits, some kangaroos, monkeys, and little sheep of various colours (courtesy of Lily). She and James had hung a proper mobile (of the magical variety, much more interesting than the Muggle one Lily remembered from her childhood) and stocked a bureau with assorted baby clothes, nappies, and other things that were apparently essential for baby care.

It really shouldn't have felt that traumatic for her, she reasoned. Harry was just moving a little ways down the hall, not going to Hogwarts for the first time! (How would she manage that when the time came? Thank God she still had years left to worry about that.) Even as she rationalized this, Lily still found herself perched on a stool in Harry's room, illicitly wiping tears on the back of her hand.

"I'm not really crying," she said quickly when James came into the room.

"Right, just thinking about cutting onions I'm sure."

"How did you ever guess." She gave a wan smile as he came up behind her, reaching out to rub her upper arms gently. "Must be those damn pregnancy hormones still working overtime."

James nuzzled the side of her neck, kissing her where he knew she liked it—right behind the corner of her jaw, where she was ticklish, on the mole smack on the nape of her neck, trailing little kisses between her ear and her jaw….

"Naptime for Mommy now, I think."

"Oh, do you?" She laughed, pushing half-heartedly at his arms as he scooped her up.

"Yes, I'm going to throw you over my shoulder, carry you off, and ravish you. Any questions?"

"James, as much as I appreciate the attention, I don't feel sexy at all. I've got bags under my eyes down to my cheeks, my hair looks like I brushed it with warthog bristles, and my shirt looks and smells like it's been covered in baby spit-up more than a few times—which makes sense, because it has."

"Sounds like you definitely need some ravishing then, lovely lady."

"I—James! Put me down, James!"

"Sorry, it's for your own good, Evans. There you go, down."

"Mmm, bed is so comfortable, I just might fall asleep."

"Where is my wife? Has she been snatched and replaced by an imposter who has the sex drive of an arctic sponge?"

"An arctic sponge? What the... Look, I'm warning you. Remember, I told you that pregnancy would make my stomach look like—

"Yes, I remember your words clearly, 'James, this baby is going to make my stomach look like a fucking accordion!'"

"I'm serious, the bloody thing has pleats—you could probably play it."

"So you're a bit squishier now… A little jiggling, I can handle that."

"Thank you, James, that makes me feel so sexually attractive."

"I'm trying to say the right thing here!"

"Well, thank you for trying."

"I should hope I get a little respect for it!"

"At least Harry is a worthwhile reason to now have nipples that are heading for my navel."

"Are they really?"

"Try not to look so excited."

"Well, let's have a look then."

He pulled her down on the bed next to him, his fingers moving quickly to slip her shirt up over her head. With practiced fingers, he soon dispatched her bra as well, letting it slide off the bed and hit the floor with two light clicks.

"Silly girl, it's not as bad as you made it out to be."

James traced his fingers over the new marks running across her stomach and breasts. Lily had spent some time (more than she cared to admit) analyzing them in the mirror herself, but that didn't mean she was prepared for outside scrutiny.

"James, staring at my stretch marks is not making me feel loads more secure."

"They're actually kind of neat looking…"

"Would you please kiss me already?"

He brushed his lips over hers lightly, his hands moving up and down over the edges of her neck, shoulder, arms, as if he were carefully relearning her body. Bit by bit, reminding himself of her shape, where she ended and he began. Then he kissed her more deeply, lips sliding around lips, and she let the comfort wash over her, the sensation of being with someone who knew her so well. They _fit_ together in a way that no one else could replace.

"I feel your heartbeat," he murmured, pressing his lips against the undersides of her breasts, his ear against her chest. It made her think of while she was pregnant, how he would press his face against her belly, waiting for some sign from that strange creature lurking in her. "Beating fast—you're all right there, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." She swallowed though, licking her lips without thinking about it. Lily had to admit she was a bit nervous. Was sex like riding a bicycle, or could you get out of practice? _You're being very silly, Evans_, she reminded herself, closing her eyes and leaning back on the pillows, trying to relax.

Then he was pressing up against her, inside her, and this was familiar with all the thrill of months of deprivation behind it. It was almost like adultery with your spouse, Lily thought, and it amused her. She smiled, lips curving against his shoulder, and then her mouth widened, an O against his skin as—_oh yes_—he hit _that_ spot, and that was familiar too, just like she remembered, and thank God she hadn't completely lost the knack…

"Lily," he sighed in her ear, and it felt good too to hear her name like that, not when he was tired or irritable and telling her that Harry had wet his nappy or spilled his tippy cup, or woken up again.

This is how it should be.

Afterwards, they lay there together, half tangled, half spooned. Her hands were curled in his, her chin tucked under his head, and she absentmindedly stroked little circles in the palm of his hand as she lay there thinking. At one time, she couldn't have imagined willingly going without sex for a whole year. Back when things were new, and it seemed that there was so much to learn about him, so much to say and do and talk about…back when she wondered occasionally if she were a nymphomaniac. _That_ thought made her snort.

"What are you thinking about?" James asked sleepily, propping his head up with one hand.

"Thinking about myself back when we first started dating."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. All that was on my mind back then was some combination of sex and drivelly romance stuff. Dirty diapers were about the furthest thing from my mind."

He laughed, a soft puff of air brushing her face, and closed his eyes. "Good thing too…might have hampered reproduction otherwise," he mumbled.

Within a few minutes he was asleep, but something was still on her mind. She reached out and shook his shoulder gently (enough).

"Mmmf, trying to schleep, Lily…"

"James, when was the last time you told me that you loved me?"

He lifted his head from the pillow and blinked at her owlishly. "I love you!"

"I don't know, does that count?"

He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it. "I love you, Lily Evans. That has to count for something"

She smiled, and nuzzled against his shoulder, feeling perfectly content for one moment. A peaceful moment like this seemed too good to last…

A small, pathetic whimper came from the other room, followed by a series of progressively louder wails.

"Oh God, it's Harry."

"Again?"

"Again." Lily was going to sit up in bed, but she thought better of it. "James, dear, I love you too. Your turn."


End file.
